Song of Hope
by SavvySage
Summary: This is a re-upload of my old story which I have decided to continue. Ranma is re-born when he combines with the essence of the Phoenix after tragically being struck down by a marauding Youma. Ranma/ Sailormoon/ Tenchi Muyo Cross. No pairing decided yet.
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Ranma, Sailor moon, Tenchi Muyo, the X-men, Samurai-Deeper Kyo or any of the ideas and concepts taken from the aforementioned sources. This story is written in no way for profit, merely the enjoyment of the author and those who would read his works. Please keep criticism constructive. If you do not like it then do not read it. Thanks. Please enjoy.

Ranma Saotome stepped from the train carriage and raised his umbrella to stave off the few drops of rain still falling from the sky. The speakers overhead proudly announced the arrival to Tokyo's Juuban Ward of the early evening shuttle from Nerima. He was forced to move swiftly to avoid being trampled by the stampede of salary-men and commuters as they swarmed around him. He cradled his precious cargo to his chest protectively as he was jostled by uncaring elbows and unconsciously used his shoulder muscles to adjust the heavily-overloaded backpack he also bore.

Glaring at the bodies surrounding him, Ranma turned his gaze to scan the platform. His mother had promised that a friend of hers would be waiting for him upon his arrival and while he was disappointed that she couldn't be there to greet him, he understood that she had obligations to her work. Apparently she had been working in a local jewellery store for the past three years and the owner was still recovering from a recent bout of the flu. He had been surprised to find out his mom had a job (she hadn't mentioned it at all during those few precious moments they had spent together over the last couple of months) but, he supposed, it made a lot of sense. The Saotomes may have been the descendants of a prestigious samurai clan but unlike the Kunos his clan had long since frivolously spent their wealth. In any case, without his father around to earn a living and provide for his spouse, then it was likely that she had had little choice in the matter.

'Still!', thought Ranma happily, 'It shows that she isn't useless like the Oyaji!'

The crowds were starting to disperse a little by this point but still Ranma had not managed to catch a glimpse of anyone who matched the description his mom had given him. If truth be told he was even starting to get a little anxious. The slight drizzle around him was slowly but surely starting to intensify. Rain drops pattered intermittently against the plastic of his umbrella. The weather could only get worse and Ranma had two reasons for not wanting to be caught out in a downpour. Surprisingly neither was because he despised the thought of turning into a girl. No, he only feared that his mother had forgotten to inform whoever was picking him up that he actually had a girl form. It wouldn't do for the woman to pass him by because of a little thing like him being the wrong gender. Secondly, and more importantly, Ranma had to take into account the welfare of his charge. He took a moment to check on the bundle resting in the crook of his arm and smiled. Being out in the rain wouldn't be good for the little one's health after all. The lights from a building nearby reflected from the many sparkling faces of the object he held to his breast. It seemed to pulse warmly and Ranma felt a wave of contentment suffuse his being. The little one felt his concern and was able to communicate it's own feelings to him after a fashion. He sent a pulse of warm ki into his aura, directing it into the blankets, reheating them until they began to radiate a comforting warmth. It was a technique similar to his rival, Ryoga's, iron cloth technique that he had devised on a spur of the moment and he was pleased with the results. Satisfied that his charge was as comfortable as he could make it, considering the circumstances, he turned his attention back to the platform and allowed his mind to wander. Things had changed so much in so little time.

(XXX)

Ranma stared down at the multi-faceted crystal orb that had until not an hour before been the most deadly and dangerous foe he had ever faced. He stared down at his hands. They were still shaking, from adrenaline or sorrow he couldn't tell. Up until an hour ago he had been Ranma Saotome, martial artist extraordinaire and heir to the Saotome Musabetsu Kakutō Ryu. But now who was he? Ranma the warrior? Ranma the murderer? Ranma the avenger?

He remembered the tearing in his heart as Saffron, the Immortal Pheonix god had met his skill with overwhelming power and brushed aside everything he had thrown at him. Ki attacks, special techniques, even plain old brute force, all injuries had disappeared almost as soon as he had inflicted them, regenerating in a flash of fire. All the while his fiancee Akane had been slowly dying, transformed into a doll-like state during the course of Saffron's ritual designed to allow him attain his adult form. Akane's life draining away second by second he had been forced to employ a desperation maneuver, utilizing the extreme environment created by the magical ice stave, Gekkaja, and the fiery god's powers. The ensuing technique, the 'Hiryu Hyo Toppa', had created an icy tornado compressed to provide pinpoint accuracy. Ranma, in his desperation had gone straight for the heart. The ensuing attack had drilled relentlessly into Saffron's chest, creating a layer of unbreakable ice that spread with unbelievable speed to encase the the winged monarch in it's chilling embrace. Even as he had torn after Akane and restored her to her natural form, Ranma had heard the death song of his opponent and felt the emptiness creeping into his soul.

But Saffron was not truly dead. The body had quickly dissolved into ash in a flash of fire and coalesced into a beautiful jewelled egg, even as the cadaver had fallen from the sky. Ranma had stared, not even daring to hope, as Kiima explained that Saffron would be reborn again, in time. He had seen her reach for her charge and then, setting Akane down by the ruins of Jusenkyo, had interposed himself between them. He had ignored Kiima's protests. He had ignored the stunned look on Akane's face as he left her side. He had ignored the enquires of Shampoo and Moose, the ragings of his father and even the bellowed insults of Ryoga. At that moment none of it had mattered as he had let his eyes rest on his slumbering foe.

"Ranma?"

He felt a gentle tug on the tatters of his shirt and tore himself from his reminiscing, turning to look into the Akane's concerned chocolate orbs. He smiled at her gently.

"No"

The words had spilled from his lips before he even realised he was speaking. He watched as Akane's look of concern faded into one of confusion.

"No?", she asked, perplexed.

He nodded.

"No."

He whirled around abruptly to face his former enemy's guardian. Kiima was beautiful, there was no denying that, in a predatory,don't-turn-your-back-on-me-or-I will-rip-you-to-shreds kind of way. He really hadn't had the time to appreciate that little fact however, what with all the fighting and running and life-threatening situations. What really drew his attention was the scowl she wore on her face, the way the lips twisted into a sneer. The way her eyes glinted, hawk-like and calculating. He didn't need to rely on his ki senses to know there was anger there, hidden behind her haughty facade. It would reside within her soul like a cancer and over time he had no doubt that, like a cancer, her anger would spread to consume her, fanned by her resentment of him and the deeds he had done that day. She was holding out her arms for her Lord expectantly. Her hands, instead of the hands of a human, were like the talons of a raptor and Ranma could see the promise of death glinting in their dark claws.

He felt his own rage well up inside him once more, stoked by the unfairness of the situation. How he would love to return home to Nerima as if nothing had happened. It would be so easy just to write this whole affair off as yet another one of his crazy adventures, forgive his rivals and tramp back to the chaos that was his life. But it was a luxury he could no longer afford. This time he had been lucky. The conditions had been exactly right for him to pull off an impossible victory. But what of next time... and the time after that... and the time after that. It was time to break the cycle. Time to reign in the waves of discord that surrounded him and subdue them. He watched, with a reasonable amount of satisfaction, as Kiima shied away from him violently as his aura flared up around him once more. Her disdain of him and the contempt she held for all 'landlings' unable to disguise her fearful reaction. It burned a deep dark crimson that flickered ominously, the promise of future pain and retribution clear to all those present.

It took her a moment to regain her composure, although her feathers still seemed a little ruffled."Saotome Ranma pass me the Lord Saffron. I will take him home." she said, a touch of that same arrogance she had held when he first met her returning to her voice.

"No chance Kiima.", he smirked at her, the smirk that melted hearts and fanned grudges.

Her scowl returned "This is not a joke Saotome, nor was it a request! Hand over my Lord now and vacate His lands or face the consequences", Her talons were twitching now, aching to draw her blade from where it hung at her waist. Ranma could seem her right 'hand' shifting ever so slowly now... 'just a bit more'... he could almost hear her thinking...' just a little more'...

"Threats Kiima?", he chuckled, "Really? You want to threaten me now after I just tore apart the God of your people?"

"Ranma!", Akane joined the conversation, her voice weak and exhausted, "Just give her the egg Ranma and we can go home!"

"Not a chance Akane!", he said, not even daring to looking at her, knowing that, with just one peek at her pale countenance and shaking limbs, he would cave. No, he kept his eyes on the phoenix girl and bled his reserves dry to keep standing strong. It was the only way. The circle must be broken. "Look at her Akane! Look at her! She isn't gonna teach the brat any different than before. Come three or four years from now that brat will be searching for sacrifices, terrorising families, not to mention killing and enslaving the locals."

Kiima let out a squawk of indigntion but Ranma refused to give her another chance to interject. Every moment was precious. He was fading fast and his aura was running on fumes. The Phoenix tribe respected strength, to falter would mean to fail. As far as Ranma was concerned it didn't matter that Saffron had been reborn. The god or demigod, as he had been, was gone and that was enough for him. In every sense of the word, Saffron had perished with his final strike and it was up to him, the god-slayer, to save his 'son' from the same fate.

He squared his shoulders defiantly and stared menacingly at everyone present.

"The brat's coming with me"

Silence reigned... for about thirty seconds and _then_ all hell broke loose.

(XXX)

Ranma cringed as he thought back to _that_ confrontation. Standing firm in the face of everyones' arguments. Their threats and wheedling attempts to get him to reason had been exhausting and even more of a task than staring down Kiima. In the end it was the backing of the Musk Prince, Herb, one of Ranma's former foes which had settled the matter. Having detected the massive energies at work earlier, the dragon-lord had made his way to the scene of the conflict as swiftly as he could, with a contingent of his best warriors including Lime and Mint, two more Musk of Ranma's acquaintance.

In the aftermath of Ranma and Herb's own duel the two martial artists had settled their differences and gone their separate ways on good terms. Upon seeing the greatest accomplishment to date of his one-time rival and an opportunity to expand his own powerbase, Herb had readily threatened war if the Phoenix tribe refused to honor Ranma's demands. Without Saffron's protection the Phoenix people were no longer an invincible force. Starved of his powers they too were now mortal and no longer represented even half the threat they had once been. On the other hand, Herb had offered, should the Phoenix leave the upbringing of their god to the mortal hands of Ranma Saotome then he, the Prince of the Musk Dynasty, would ensure the Phoenix tribe's safety from the prospect of an Amazon counter-attack (a likely response for the crime perpetuated by the Phoenix tribe for assaulting and brainwashing one of their own - now that Saffron was out of the picture at least). He had even offered Kiima his bodyguards to act as hostages to ensure Saffron's well-being. Ranma chuckled even as he leaned back to avoid a stream of water from an over-head gutter. Lime and Mint had been overjoyed at their new assignment. A chance to properly study women (even if they were Phoenix-girls) and maybe even grope one had meant every Musk soldier had been bouncing up and down with eagerness as Herb selected his chosen.

'Probably think they've been promoted or something", Ranma thought.

Suddenly, on the edge of his vision he caught a sudden hint of green as it sashayed it's way towards him through the crowd and Ranma let loose a breath he didn't know he had been holding. This must be his mother's friend. She had warned him that Ms Meiou's coloring was a little unorthodox for a pure-blooded Japanese woman (a little rich coming from a woman whose own son sported crystal-blue eyes and gorgeous, flowing scarlet locks when his curse was activated) but when she finally stopped in front of him, smiling enigmatically, he realised his mother's observations had not done the woman justice.

The first thing he noticed was her hair. It was a deep vibrant green which flowed down to the small of her back and swayed with her as she walked. Her face was beautiful, with an ageless quality to it that made it hard to define just how old she was and her eyes shone like purest rubies, complemented by her darker skin tone. She was extraordinarily attractive, in a regal sort of way, and the way she walked, the confidence she exuded, made it very clear that she was well aware of the fact. She wore a designer cut woman's business suit, dyed a gentle purple with a white silk blouse beneath and a delicate red bow at her throat. The suit skirt was cut short, but not indecently so, showing off her toned and tanned long legs, with equally designer heels to finish the ensemble. All this just helped to accentuate her beauty further and for the first time even Ranma found himself at a loss for words.

"Ranma Saotome I presume?", she asked, her lips still set in that knowing little smile.

"U-umm yeah that's me... it's Ms Meiou right", he replied as he found his senses again.

If possible her smile seemed to get even more knowing and alluring, "Oh my? What's the matter Ranma-san?", she asked as a little giggle seemed to escape her, under her breath. "You're Mother, Nodoka-chan did tell you to expect me, correct?"

He nodded vigorously in reply, not trusting himself to speak in case the legendary Saotome curse to 'foot-in-mouth' decided to make an appearance.

"That's good!", she winked and gestured that he should walk beside her.

"Please call me Setsuna, no need to stand on ceremony. Nodoka-chan is a close friend after all. Now what do you say we leave this dreary place and get out of the cold. Can I take anything for you Ranma-san?"

Carefully he fell into step at her side, and waved off any attempts at trying to ease his burden. So distracted was he by his new acquaintance's glamour that he almost missed the oppressive feeling gathering in the air. There was the sound of a crash, followed by terrified screams as population of the station realised something was very, very wrong. Before he knew it his feet were moving and suddenly there was no time to think anymore.

(XXX)

The daimon egg writhed with unholy delight as it sensed it's target approaching. It was a prototype, the first of it's kind and it's task... a spur of the moment test by it's creator. As a matter of fact the main wave of attacks were due to begin in the next couple of weeks. However the Mistress had decided that a little taste of what was to come was in order for the people of Earth. If it hadn't been an evil construct with little-to-no sentience then the daimon might actually have felt sorry for the young woman. She was one Himiko Takahata, an aspiring piano teacher and mother of two and she had no idea what was about to happen to her. The diabolical creation watched and waited as she came closer, nestled within the very vending machine that she visited each evening on her way home from work. When she finally stopped before the machine and fumbled in her pocket for change, her eyes grew wide with horror as the daimon egg within sensed that the moment had come and activated. Twisting, screeching, and flickering with coruscating energies, the daimon egg warped the structure of it's hiding place until it settled on a form that was vaguely female, about 7 feet tall, with cruel, razor-sharp claws and a black star cresting it's ill-shaped brow.

With a roar of triumph, the newly released daimon gave an evil, steel-coloured grin and let loose its opening attack. "Vending!", it screamed as a beam of black light lanced from the star-shaped marking, crackling with a sickening, evil power, and struck the poor woman right through the heart.

Or at least it would have but for the pair of slippered feet impacting against the side of it's head with bone-crushing force. The impact threw off it's aim, sending the energy wide to disperse harmlessly against a support beam,allowing it's screaming prey to scramble away unharmed. Spinning around, fury burning in it's 'eyes', the daimon let our a scream of rage as it laid glared at the miserable bag of flesh that had dared interrupt it's mission and embarrass it in it's mistress's eyes. Vowing to teach the meddling human a lesson for it's interference, the daimon launched itself at it's new target, planning on cutting it him in half with a single blow.

(XXX)

Ranma dodged the first wild swipe from the hulking monstrosity and cursed his luck under his breath. It really wasn't fair. He had made his way to the Juuban ward to spend some quality time with his mother for the first time in months. He had, mistakenly, assumed that such a change of scene would, at last, allow him a short reprieve from the chaos that was his life. Unfortunately he had heard the screams, seen the monster and his body had responded before his mind had had a chance to weigh the pros and cons of his actions. He muttered yet another curse and wondered again at how he always seemed to find himself in such a dangerous situations.

Ranma leaned backwards to allow the follow-up metallic backhand to breeze by him and blocked the next punch with a round-house kick to gauge the monster's strength. His eyes narrowed. While nothing to write home about for a world-class martial artist such as himself, a single blow from this creature would be able to seriously injure the average member of the public. In fact he would place it somewhere between Akane and Shampoo in terms of strength. Leaping over and attempted bear-hug, he used the creature's head as a springboard to land another blow to the side of, what he assumed to be, it's head with an audible clang. As it clattered to the ground in an ungraceful heap he sped backwards to gain a little breathing space and took the moment while it recovered to review his options. He could currently only use his legs to fight, both his arms being occupied by a phoenix egg and umbrella respectively. He was surrounded by members of the public, whose chances of being seriously injured were only increasing should the fight be drawn out much longer. Finally, he had no idea what this misshapen mass was, nor what it wanted, and, by the speed at which it was recovering, it seem highly resistant to physical attacks.

"Die!"

He flinched as a voice that sounded like rocks in a blender echoed from the daimon and in his surprise only narrowly missed being disemboweled as it launched what appeared to be, razor-sharp, crushed drink cans in his direction. Ducking and weaving through the hail of speeding projectiles that followed could not have been more easy for someone who had graduated from the Genma Saotome school of hard knocks. But how could he finish off the creature quickly? As his body fell into a familiar pattern, words sprung unbidden from his lips, forged after many years of study under the master to be some of the most devastating weapons in his arsenal.

(XXX)

"Man I know panda's who're faster than you!"

" A bit more to the left, a bit more to the left, there you go... oops, no, you still missed"

"I'd recommend going to see the doc about those eyes of yours but I don't think they make glasses in the size of extra ugly!"

The Daimon screamed in frustration. How dare the human insult her. Could it not see the delicate way the light sparkled off her metallic skin? Was it blind to the noble slope of her brow? Her heaving cubic bosom? Her shots became wilder and wilder in response and she tore up the ground as she tried to stomp her frustration away at being unable to hit the uncivilised, disgusting little monkey. Then it happened.

Now one might say that daimon's possess very little in the way of intelligence and, on the whole, they would be right. They were really just mindless constructs designed for two simple and straightforward tasks: the removal of heart crystals from their hosts and the retrieval of the talismans within if they were located during their hunt. And yet... And yet sometimes there was something more. A spark of personality. A rudimentary predatory mindset for exploiting the weaknesses of prey.

It barely noticed one of it's projectiles fly even wider than usual, nor did it really pay much attention to the wailing little girl-child about to be impaled by the item. Then in a blur of red and black, her intended target was there, deflecting it into the air and inflicting a large gash on it's foot in the process. The insults had stopped. The boy wasn't smiling anymore. Elated by it's success the daimon repeated the process, firing again and again into the retreating masses and again and again, the boy sped into the path of danger, taking small amounts of damage in the process. An evil smirk twisted onto her face with a squeak of tortured metal. The star on her brow began to glow with a sickly, black light once more.

(XXX)

'This can't be happening! This can't be happening! This can't be happening!"

This was what was running through the Princess of Pluto's mind as she fought against the crowd, who were pushing her back in their panic to retreat from the ensuing combat. From what she could see Ranma appeared to be holding his own, if barely, but he was heavily handicapped, limiting himself because of _her _presence (not wanting to change into his female form) and whatever he seemed to be holding to his chest.

She needed to find somewhere to hide so she could transform or people would most definitely die. But that wasn't what was so terrifying. No, what was currently causing her such distress was that she _hadn't known_! She had assumed that the first attacks would occur on schedule in a couple of weeks time. It would be the first time Uranus and Neptune would awaken and discover one another. It would be the first time the Outers would take an active role in the Inners lives. No! There was a greater power at work here. It would take a phenomenal, almost godly, power to alter the time-stream without alerting her, it's guardian.

She finally made her way to an abandoned snack shack and ducked inside. Within moments, Sailor Pluto replaced Setsuna Meio in all her glory and she darted from the stand with a graceful leap that sent her soaring towards the enemy.

Just in time to see Ranma Saotome, heir to the Saotome Musabetsu Kakutō Ryu, fall, eyes lifeless as a bolt of obsidian black drilled through his heart. A chill spread throughout her as she watched his skin turn grey and lifeless, a huge blaze of gold erupted from his chest and a cry of despair erupted from within her as she watched a second beam of darkness strike the half-formed heart crystal with an audible crack. Not waiting to see the results of the attack and unable to do so due to the half-formed tears blurring her vision, Pluto launched her own furious attack.

"Dead Scream! Dead Scream!"

(XXX)

The white surrounded him. Cold, it was so cold. He could feel the warmth nearby but it was draining away, leaving an empty void that couldn't be filled no matter how hard he tried. He looked down and saw his hands were pale and translucent. He stared at them in fascination. Then he saw the stream of light extending from his chest, flowing away from him towards the cold. Desperate, he tried to reach within himself, to call upon his life force as he had done so many times before but he couldn't feel... anything! There wasn't much left, he knew. The light represented his ki, he realised that now and it was nearly all gone.

Ghostly pale tears ran down his see-through cheeks and he let loose the emotions that he had kept so contained in life. It had been another young child, a boy, no older than 7 of 8. That monster had shot some wierd ki attack and he had, of course, leaped to deflect it. Throwing his umbrella up in the air he had focused his confidence to make a counter-blast. Maybe it had been his situation. His confidence had not been at it's peak throughout the fight. Maybe his concern for little Saffron and the bystanders had affected his control. Either way, the weak moko takabisha he had thrown in reply had been torn apart like wet tissue paper. The darkness had claimed him as the unimaginable pain had hit him in the chest and then something even more painful, like a limb being torn from it's socket as something struck him again. And then he had found himself here.

Alone and cold. It was like his worst nightmares brought to life. It reminded him of the pit, when those creatures had torn his very sanity to shreds, of the beatings inflicted by his father and the nights he went to sleep without either a blanket or food for comfort. It reminded him of when Ukyou had been left behind, the next day when he had realised that he wouldn't be seeing his friend anymore. Of the night of Akane's greatest betrayal...

He fell to his knees and clawed desperately at the light streaming from his body, his sobs becoming even louder and more desperate, echoing through the empty white.

"Don't leave me here! Don't leave me here all alone... Mom... Pops... A-Akane...", he choked.

"I can't die now... please not now... I had so much left I wanted to do... I failed..."

"I failed.", came the disbelieving whisper, echoing back at him from the white.

And then...

And then he heard the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

It started low, a bass life tremble that swiftly rose to echo melodically throughout his prison. The song itself was indescribable, no words spoken in the tongues of man could possibly do justice to such perfection. Suddenly the flow of light from his ethereal form slowed to a halt and that which had fled Ranma began to saturate his being. Confidence, courage, strength and hope. He raised his head from it's bowed position and gazed in open-mouthed amazement as a shape began to coalesce before him. It was a man, a man he knew very well. Ranma's eyes narrowed and he clambered to his feet defiantly one last time. Settling into a defensive stance he watched as Saffron, Lord of the Phoenix stepped out of the white to confront him.

"Hello Saotome"

"Saffron"

The image smirked, and then, in an action that shocked Ranma to the very core, relaxed his aggresive stance and gave the pig-tailed boy a gentle smile.

"Peace, Ranma, I have not come to fight with you", the image said, almost reproachfully, "I have merely assumed the last form I occupied in the physical world as it is the one you are most familiar with. I am not Saffron as you knew him but Saffron as he should have been, had he ever truly existed to begin with."

Ranma stared in disbelief. His greatest enemy was standing before him, the only one Ranma had ever slain in mortal combat and here he was chiding Ranma in his own afterlife.

"What are you talking about Saffron?", he asked bluntly. He gestured to the white surrounding them, "And could you please explain just what the hell is going on here?"

Saffron ruffled his feathers and gestured with a claw, making a couple of chairs appear in the same way he had. Ranma gaped comically and the god gave a bark of laughter. As Ranma took a seat the god shrugged his shoulders and made his wings vanish. and took the seat opposite him. Seeing that Ranma had been overloaded by the events of the last few minutes he took pity on the poor boy.

"This is not real Ranma... none of this is real. The official name for this location is the Astral Plane. It is a place completely comprised of thought, purely the work of the mind. Completely untrained as you are you have no practise in shaping the world to your will. This will change in time of course and it is in no way your fault... but I digress, let us return to the reason you are here."

Ranma shook his head and recovered his wits, he turned all his attention back to Saffron as what the god had just said sunk in. Saffron continued on speaking, pleased that he seemed to have the Saotome boy's full attention once again.

"Ranma, what do you know of me, my past and my nature".

Ranma paused for a moment, considering his answer. "Not much I suppose. I mean I know that you're immortal, you rule over the Phoenix tribe and you all have a really messed up attitude towards anyone without wings. Suppose I also know you can control fire, and that you're saturated with Ki but for some reason you don't use it. Add that to the fact that I killed you and you should be nestled all cosy inside you're egg waiting to be reborn and I am really starting to freak out about having you in my head". He looked questioningly over at Saffron and was somewhat surprised to see the look of genuine good-humor on his face. In his experience Saffron had two settings: haughty disdain and boundless rage. To see anything else was frankly a little more than he felt he could handle now in his fragile state of mind.

Saffron seemed to take note of his one-time adversary's distress and cocked his head to one side as if in thought.

"I see now that coming to you in this shape was a mistake Ranma, please forgive my insensitivity to our 'past' together. Let me assure you though that there are reasons for the way 'Saffron' acted as he did and, while not morally justifiable, they were not entirely his fault."

"Shape? You mean you aren't really Saffron?", Ranma asked

"I cannot lie to you Ranma, In a way I was Saffron and yet at the same time I am not. It is truly quite difficult explaining the exact mechanics of the situation to you utilising any Terran speech form. The languages of your time are not really devised to cope with the level of subtlety required for discussing the topic of psionics but I shall do my best. The Saffron you met was but a puppet, a tool shaped by his environment. He was a construct made of thought and emotion... just like the chair you sit upon but manifested in the physical world."

Ranma was stunned by this revelation. Sure he had always suspected that Saffron hadn't been a true god. His being was no doubt otherworldly but Ranma had, since the battle, suspected that he was truly some form of minor kami or nature spirit. But to hear that Saffron. the Lord of Phoenix mountain had been nothing more that a figment of his imagination, after all the suffering he had but Ranma and his friends through, was just a little hard to swallow. Wait a minute... did he just say Terran? What the heck was that supposed to mean?

"That can't be right, you bled, you were bruised and battered and I killed you. If you were just some mind game how could I hurt you at all? And what the hell are you talking about...Terran? Throw me a bone here Saffron!", he said, his voice rising in volume till he was almost shouting, his fists clenching and unclenching in frustration.

Saffron sighed and gave Ranma a withering look.

"Ranma if you would just let me continue there is much I have to tell you and very little time to do it. I can halt the effects of the outside world on your body for only so long before I must allow the laws that the govern the universe to take hold of you again. First of all, for simplicity's sake, let me just say that I am not Saffron, there is no, was no and never shall be a Saffron. Allow me to demonstrate"

With that the form of Saffron began to melt away into a mass of glimmering copper lights. Dancing like fireflies the motes spun around one another in mid-air until they began to take on another form. When the lights faded Ranma's mouth fell open once more. Sitting across from him was a perfect replica of his female form, from the size of her ample bust to the tiny birthmark that rested invisibly on her collarbone. She smirked and then Ranma felt his heart skip and the air around him become uncomfortably warm as she gave him a warm, heartfelt smile.

"I am the Phoenix, Guardian of the Life-Stream and Protector of the Sea of Souls, and I have been searching for you, Ranma, for the better part of 10,000 years!"

Ranma promptly did the only action who could possibly think of in the situation. He fainted.

(XXX)

Ranma awoke to an unpleasant tugging sensation emanating from his chest area. Opening his eyes tentatively he rattled out an almost sob of relief as the familiar walls of the Tendo Dojo greeted his eyes. Eyes which promptly took on an angry cast as he remembered why he had left in the first place. He had obviously been knocked out by the betrayer's damn mallet and everything he had experienced up to now, the fight, his death, his meeting with Saffron had all been a fever dream induced by the concussive force of the blow. He stood shakily and made his way from the building. He opened the main sliding door on the right-hand side of the of the Dojo and was greeted by a wall of fog, stretching off into infinite. No backyard or koi pond. No Pops and Mr. Tendo playing shogi. Nothing but the endless white of his nightmare.

"I'm sorry Ranma"

The sweet soprano voice made him spin around and there, standing in the center of the hall where he had been lying not moments before he spied Phoenix, still wearing his girl-form. She smiled sadly at him and gestured at the walls surrounding them. "I took the liberty of redecorating a little bit while you were out"

"Why... the Tendo Dojo" he croaked. It wasn't a dream. He looked down at his chest and shuddered at the light cord that still extended from it, passing through the walls of the Dojo as it they weren't there. But were it had been static the last time he looked now the light was flowing very sluggishly from his person.

"Because it was the last place that you felt at peace, I took the image from your memories. I apologise for the intrusion into your mind but I felt you might be able to cope with your situation better in familiar surroundings." Phoenix gestured to the light. "Time is really running short Ranma, I can only do so much in my present state and soon I will exhaust even my reserves. If our meeting goes on much longer I will not be able to keep you in this world."

Ranma felt himself go cold at those words.

"What do you mean?", he asked timidly, unable to meet her gaze any longer he stared at his feet instead. He didn't want anyone, even a mind-invading creature like Pheonix to see the tears in his eyes.

He felt a pair of warm arms wrap around him in a hug and looked up, shocked at his female half who now held him in her arms. He had not even felt her move. His first instinct was to stiffen, to bluster and extract himself from her embrace but found he couldn't move. The warmth, the tenderness, made him feel safe and whole and he could not find it within himself to leave it. Tears began to stream down his cheeks once more.

'Manliness be damned', he thought as he smiled a little. Then he heard Phoenix began to speak again and he found himself ignoring everything but her voice.

"Ranma when you were born you were destined to be a man of great power and responsibility. You really don't know how special you were meant to be.", Phoenix shifted leaned back from her hug and Ranma moved towards her, seeking to return to her arms but she just took his hand and guided him into sitting on the floor opposite to her. "You were meant to be the first of your kind, a herald of mankind's next step on the path to regaining what was once lost to your people. But something happened that crippled your potential. When you were seven years old your father subjected you to physical and mental torture in an effort to learn an unbeatable technique..."

"The nekoken!", he growled violently. He was a little surprised to hear an echoing growl from his companion.

"Yes!", she spat, "An abominable practice and one best lost to the annals of time." Phoenix seemed to be having some trouble keeping her emotions at bay and Ranma, by reflex, squeezed her hand that he still gripped, gently to show his support. The crimson-haired beauty took a deep breath and her composure seemed to return.

"As I was saying", she said, " You should not have survived the nekoken at all, the true purpose of the technique was to summon a malevolent being from elsewhere in the Astral plane and bind it in the sacrifice's body. It used to be used by primitive cultures to create unfeeling, unstoppable berserkers. It was really only because of your potential gifts that you prevented the majority of the technique's effects.

"What are these gifts you keep going on about?, asked Ranma, his interest piqued at the thought of having never reached his true potential. If he had been the best martial artist of his generation with such a handicap then what could he have accomplished with all his talent's at his disposal!

Phoenix nodded to acknowledge his enquiry, "Latent psychic potential Ranma. All humans possess it but you were to be the very first of your kind activate it, the primogenitor as it were. Your very presence on your world was the key to moving the human race along on it's next evolutionary step."

"Psychic... you mean like reading minds and stuff?, he asked, stunned.

"In a way...", Phoenix said, it was obvious she didn't want to waste much more time on answering his questions so Ranma just nodded and smiled to show he understood. The returned the grin in thanks.

"Anyway this is where I come in. Ranma I need your help."

"My help?" he asked.

"When you were struck by that monster, your soul was ripped from your body in a crystalline form and was badly damaged by a secondary blast. For the moment let me just say that the egg you have been caring for is precious to me and when you took it into your care I knew I had found the one I had been searching for all this time. There is a great evil at work on your world Ranma and it is my job to oppose their plans."

Phoenix shivered and pulled her hand from Ranma's and clasped them in front of her. Ranma could see her knuckles were white with the strength of her emotions but wisely decided to say nothing. Her voice was cracked as she continued.

"But I have never been so weak, my powers are waning day by day as theirs grow in strength. My race, and yes Ranma that _is_ what I said, ...my race cannot exist in the physical world without a link of some kind.

At this point she reached forward and clasped his hands in her own.

"The problem is that only those with a certain strength can contain and maintain the link. Since the first fall of man there has been no-one in your solar system even close being able to bear my gifts. Until you... until you...", at this point her voice tailed off and Ranma found himself staring into those expressive blue eyes he had seen so often in the mirror.

"I can save your life Ranma", she said in a very small voice, "I can bring you back but there will be changes and the complications could be more than you can willingly accept. I will not force you into this however... it has to be your choice...". Phoenix took a deep shuddering breath and then continued, "Firstly you would have to agree to be my host, you would still be your own person but we would be linked irreversibly. Secondly you would have to accept the duties of my position, to be my avatar in your solar system. The first and second points lead to the most difficult part of our agreement. Ranma Saotome would be dead... I cannot restore you to your old body. I will need to build a new one for your soul to inhabit meaning that for all intents and purposes you will have no earthly family. The Saotomes will bury their son and mourn him but in time will come to deal with their grief and move on. It may be many years before you can see them again..." Seeing Ranma about to interrupt Phoenix shook her head to indicate there was more to come and that he should remain silent until she had finished. "Ranma your new body... It cannot be male. If you had remained in your old form then I could have used the form of your curse to bind with you but this new body will be just that... uncursed and unblemished by magics. I am Phoenix, Ranma, a being inherently female on all levels and I cannot grant a male host my full powers."

Ranma just sat their stunned as Phoenix composed herself once more.

"Ranma the choice is yours. You may live as Phoenix and fight against the coming darkness. Know that I will be by your side every step of the way and that we will always be together... or you may rejoin the stream of souls and fade from this world. I will then return to my vigil and hope to find another of your ability before either I perish or the coming evil swallows the world and eliminates all life from our Solar System.

(XXX)

Setsuna held the sobbing form of Nodoka Saotome to her should as she wept the bitter tears of loss for her only child. Ranma had looked so peaceful when she had finally reached him. Usagi and the Inners had quickly arrived and finished the Daimon with Moon's healing magic but nothing they could do could help the poor boy whose bright light had so quickly been extinguished by his own honor and selflessness. They had all cried tears for the boy and Usagi had to be restrained physically by Rei from trying to use the _Ginzuishō _to resurrect the poor young man. Minako had hugged the delicate young Moon Princess as she mourned the death of a stranger with that passionate sense of loss that set her apart from all others. To the Moon Princess even one death that could have bee averted was one too many. However, the dangers associated with the Silver Imperial Crystal were just too great for her to risk for just one life.. Makoto had patted her on the shoulder in support and even Ami had had some soft words of comfort for the distraught young girl, pointing out that with the boy's soul shell shattered, Usagi would be unable to help him in any case. She could call back his soul but without form there would be no way to anchor his spirit to his body again. In the end it had taken the arrival of the police to stir the girls into action and make them depart the scene. Setsuna had not interfered. It would be a bonding experience for the girls and a taste of what was to come. They would all be stronger for it and get through it like they did all obstacles...together.

Instead she had made her slow way to Naru's mother's jewelry store and had stood in the doorway, numb and empty as her friend, Nodoka Saotome had looked up from the cash register, the worry etched on her face as she saw no sign of her son. She had taken her carefully to the staffroom at the back of the store and made her sit down. By this time Nodoka had been frantically staring between her and the empty doorway as if waiting for Ranma to stroll his way into the room, a cocky smile on his lips and some half-hearted apology about being late. Setsuna Meiou, Guardian of Pluto, Defender of the Time Gates and warrior of ten millenia had opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. She had tried again and this time:

"Nodoka-chan... an attack took place a-at the station... Ranma...I'm so sorry... Nodoka-chan... he was gone before the ambulance... I'm so sorry!"

Nodoka had collapsed into her arms... nothing more needed to be said. The heart-felt screams of a woman who had lost her only child, that life which she had brought into the world, echoed throughout the shop and soon they were joined by Naru's mother and even the young girl herself. The mother and daughter had held each other for support as they watched their co-worker and close friend mourn as only a mother could. Sestuna had allowed her own tears to flow.

'This wasn't supposed to happen!', she thought through her grief, 'None of this was supposed to happen! What changed? How did it change!'. Ranma wasn't supposed to die! He had a destiny to fulfill and without his influence there was every chance it would effect the birth of Crystal Tokyo. She needed to get to the time-gates, to study the repercussions Ranma's death would have for the future but not yet... not quite yet. It could wait till the morning. She was needed elsewhere and more than one person would need comforting this night.

(XXX)

Usagi looked at the table before her, the mound of cookies, sweets and manga showed that her friends had really pulled out all the stops for their Princess. The shrine table was fairly groaning under the weight of it's offerings and their expectant faces of her friends showed that they obviously meant for her to gorge herself on her favorite things, to be the normal, happy-go-lucky Usagi again and take a break from the pain they all felt for their failure this evening.

She didn't have any appetite however ...for anything...

There was an emptiness inside her that didn't make any sense. It was as if she had lost something important, something vital to her being. How she could feel this way over the loss of a boy none of them had ever seen before she didn't know but even if that hadn't been the case the death of a civilian was a tragedy that she would never come to terms with.

The other scouts were all grieving in their own ways, she could tell. Makoto's baking... she always made tons of food after a fight like today's, working in the kitchen helped her find her center again and deal with her sadness. Ami occupied herself with facts and figures, putting her soul into examining the fight and their foe so that she could prevent today's events from ever happening again. Minako, well she had been fighting crime for much longer than any of them and had seen more in her battles than she cared to share with everyone. Usagi had spent many a night at sleepovers with her friend, listening to her pour her heart out about her exploits and her deep hidden fears of failure. Usagi knew she would have to arrange another sleepover soon. This death would have greatly affected her friend and her bubbly quips were nothing more than a cover for her pain, it would not do for the Inner's official leader to be seen weak in front of her comrades. And Rei... Rei was Usagi's greatest friend of all. The princess of Mars was fiery and passionate, quick to anger yet quick to forgive. Rei was shuffling through her manga listlessly but Usagi knew once they had all gone she would retreat to gaze into the sacred fire at the heart of the shrine. She found her solace in spirituality and the will of the gods. What surprised Usagi though was that Rei seemed to be suffering almost as much as herself. She kept blinking the tears from her eyes and clenching and unclenching her fists in an action that Usagi realised that she was unconsciously mimicking.

"Sorry guys", she muttered, gazing down at her lap, "I guess I just don't feel like anything"

Makoto looked even more concerned at her words

"Come on Usagi you've got to eat something, what else and I going to do with all this food", she joked halfheartedly.

Usagi gave a little giggle which turned into a half-choked sob as once more the image of that young man, pale and cold, flashed across her vision,

"I just can't guys, I just keep thinking about that boy, lying there... If we'd been just a little quicker to respond... fought a little harder... I-I Oh REI!"

The Inner's watched in pain as their leader wept openly in her Rei's arms. The dark-haired senshi had caught the pig-tailed girl and was softly stroking her blonde hair in an unusual display of sensitivity. Normally Usagi would have thrown herself at her boyfriend, Mamoru but he had departed for China on an exchange programme and had ended their relationship before leaving (an action that none of the Inner's had quite forgiven him for yet). The scene was interrupted as someone cleared their throat quietly from the entrance to the study room.

Pluto entered with all her usual majesty and, in an unusual display of emotion, offered them all a pained smile before moving to her princess's side.

"Princess", she began but was unprepared to receive the form of her liege and the blond barrelled from Rei's arms to her own in a flash of speed. She caught herself before she fell, just barely, and out of reflex more than anything pulled the girl into another hug.

Needless to say the Inner's were stunned. For Pluto to show any emotion at all indicated that things were even more serious than they had expected. Had something gone wrong? Was Crystal Tokyo no more?

It took quite a while for thing to settle down again but eventually Pluto sat down beside the Inner's and faced them, her gaze steady and her soul composed once more.

"I have something to tell you all... about the boy who died today...", she began before being interrupted by Rei.

"Who was he Pluto?", asked the fiery shrine maiden bluntly, "Something just hasn't felt right since I saw him at the station, who is he to us?"

"The boy, Rei, was named Ranma Saotome and was one of the greatest martial artists since the great Ki-Singers of Mars still walked our worlds." Setsuna felt a small twinge of satisfaction as Rei's eyes went wide with shock, a sudden inrush of memories providing her with a reference for the praise Setsuna was heaping on the departed. "He was an important component in the rise of Crystal Tokyo. You see when he was six years old..."

The Inner's listen gobsmacked to the life and times of Ranma Saotome, the tale of adventure, romance, hilarity, courage and tragedy that had so cruelly been cut short by a twist of fate, and the repercussions of his death within their own lives.

(XXX)

Juuban Ward station was deserted. The police had been and gone. The body of Ranma Saotome had been taken to the morgue to be identified on the morrow. Nodoka Saotome and Genma Saotome, the parents of the deceased would be notified in the morning and would be scheduled to view the body at their earliest convenience to identify their son. All Ranma's belongings had been taken to the station to be catalogued and stored for collection, it had take three officers alone to lift the backpack and two to lift the umbrella (facts which puzzled the police to no end. What kind of man had this Ranma been to carry such items as nonchalantly as witnesses had reported). After a monster attack it was protocol to quarantine the area for 24 hours, in case any lingering traces of the monster remained and could pose a possible threat to the public.

So there was no one to witness as the motes of light began to coalesce in the chill night air. It began slowly, manifesting one by one to dance around each other in a strange aerial ballet. More and more began to appear, different colours: blue, green, white, crimson, gold, silver, bronze, purple... on and on, colours that had never been seen before by the eyes of man. Then, once the air of the station was flooded by them, all swirling around one another and mixing like a billion stars on an ink-black sky, they began to flow. As if called to one another, the lights all began to converge on one point, crunching together as a single pinprick of light until...

Flames errupted from the point of convergence, like a miniature big bang, or the birth of a star. Curling around one another the tongues of flame lanced out over and over from the main body of fire, piercing the darkness of the station, illuminating it completely and... if one stared into the center of the fiery mass...

A delicate porcelain foot touched down on the cool concrete floor of the platform, followed by another as the flame..._twisted..._into shape and settled. The rest of the body formed in the same way, outlined by fire before the blaze retreated inside, leaving behind perfectly formed, muscles, skin and bone in their wake. The woman dropped to the floor in a crouch and, unsteadily, rose to her feet.

She was approximately 5'6 in height, with skin that shone with an inner luminescence. Her body was slim, yet athletic with a definite muscle tone and not an ounce of fat to be seen anywhere. Her hair was the colour of the flames that had birthed her: crimson with hints orange and gold, and was cut short so that her silken locks only just kissed the back of her C-cup breasts were perfectly proportioned to her height and were tipped with pale pink nipples that had hardened noticeably in the cool night air. The well groomed pubic hair at the groove between her legs confirmed that she was indeed a natural red-head. Her face was as beautiful as the rest of her body, delicately sculpted without a hint of baby-fat. Her ruby lips stood out in plain contrast to her pale features and her eyes... they fluttered open... were the colour of the ocean, blue with a hint of emerald and hidden behind thick seductive lashes.

She looked around dazed, as if unsure where she was and then closed those captivating eyes and cocked her head as if listening to a voice no-one else could hear. Suddenly her face went slack and then... the eyes snapped open and blazed brilliantly, transforming to a pupiless gold that burned with the heart of a star. Her body lifted...actually lifted from the ground and as she spread her arms it was as if wings of flame erupted from within her to unfold around her levitating form. Talons formed from fire and then a great raptor's head... The girl now floated in the center of the blazing bird-shape that had formed around her. Her arms were extended, legs together and her head thrown back as the power coursed through her. She smiled and...

The Phoenix rose from the ashes of death and despair and her birth-song echoed throughout the hearts of everyone on the planet. Those pure of heart felt it as an overwhelming surge of happiness, whereas those with evil staining their souls felt a wave of horror like nothing they had ever felt before and in a small shrine in Juban...

(XXX)

"... and his descendants would have formed the heart of both the first great rebellion you would have faced as well as the great army of followers that would have formed to opposed the rebels. But now... I have no idea what to expect. I will have to spend much time at the time-gates in order to sort out and solve this mess", Setsuna rubbed her temples, expecting this last piece of information triggered another outburst from the scouts.

In truth the girls had been a most satisfying audience, gasping with horror at zll the right times, cries of anger at Genma's treatment of his son, tears of sorrow for all the hardships the boy had suffered and had been due to suffer. Usagi had wailed when she had brought up the neko-ken and Rei had started to think up the many and myriad was she could curse the fat panda. Minako had lamented his love-life (probably mistakenly believing she would be able to solve everything for the pig-tailed boy had she been given the chance) and Makoto had mourned the loss of such a master of the art to future generations.

But there was no outburst. Instead all of the scouts were staring off into space in rapture, as if transfixed by a sight invisible to all but a privileged few. She was about to enquire about what was going on when she felt it. A wave of happiness suffused her being, meeting her carefully constructed emotional barriers and shattering them as if they weren't even there. And it was just beginning... she felt the music, the song welling up in her heart.

None of the scouts present would be able to remember which one of them began first but one by one, the music began to spill from their lips. It had no words... at least none that they were able to remember. It was a song of joy, life, birth, creation and love. In their breasts their Sailor Star seeds began to glow.

In a dark bedroom, a short-haired little prepared to go to bed. Her voice joined in the song.

Strolling through the park, lovers walked hand-in-hand. Suddenly they stopped, eyes glazed and unconsciously held each other tighter as their voices danced in a delicate harmony. Their voices joined the song.

Pluto could only stare... at what she didn't know...as the song reached a crescendo and all feelings of pain were washed away... if only for a moment. She could feel it. Her very essence... the planet Pluto itself was crying out for joy. The lost one had returned and now they were complete.

The great rebirth had begun and the song of hope heralded it's coming.

Author's Notes

So here it is my first Ranma/SM crossover in 5 years. This Idea has been swirling around in my head ever since I read Ozallos's great yet abandoned work: Saffronification. The story however has taken on ideas and dimensions I had not considered and I am really writing in a frenzy at the moment as new angles keep coming to mind. Now the main crossover, Ranma/SM as I have said will be the focus of this tale, elements taken from other sources are just that although I will most definitely be including some Tenchi Muyo. Please let me know what you think because, review glutton that I am, I would really like your support if you want me to continue this work.


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own Ranma, Sailor moon, Tenchi Muyo, the X-men, Samurai-Deeper Kyo or any of the ideas and concepts taken from the aforementioned (or other established) sources . This story is written in no way for profit, merely the enjoyment of the author and those who would read his works. Please keep criticism constructive. If you do not like it then do not read it. Thanks. Please enjoy

Joy. Pure, unadulterated joy suffused her being as she spiralled through the clouds. The sun shone above her, its rays caressing her as she flew across the open sky. Her mind... it was a mess. The very effort of forming a cohesive thought was painful as her mind scattered off in random directions at the slightest distraction, yet the feeling of true happiness would not leave her. Something deep and primal within her, the very essence of her being, recognised the freedom of her actions as she dove and swooped with childish abandon, giggling uncontrollably. The 'voice' inside her head sighed with motherly affection as it indulged in her excited requests for more, her aerial acrobatics becoming even more death-defying and complicated. She loved the 'voice'. It made her feel warm, safe and wanted, in a way that she knew, deep down, that she had never felt before. Her giggles instantly turned into shrieks of delight as suddenly her body whirled into a dive and she found herself hurtling towards the watery blue surface visible below. Faster and faster she fell and for one horrible moment the icy shard of fear pierced her heart she wondered if the voice had abandoned her but no...

Just before she struck the surface she felt the 'voice's' control over her body reassert itself, altering her trajectory. Before she knew it she was speeding forward again, this time at a different angle, parallel to the waves. Her toes were dipped into the water and a great spray began to trail behind her at the passing. She heard the sound of laughter echo throughout her mind and smiled. It seemed the voice was happy too.

(XXX)

Setsuna stared wildly into the Gates of Time, for the first time in centuries feeling at a complete loss. This couldn't be happening! Why was this happening! She stumbled away from her post, where she had been standing vigil for the last 36 hours, passing through Charon castle's security protocols with ease, to step from the temporal chamber into the castle proper. Five minutes later saw the usually unflappable Senshi of Time lounging in her personal chambers, trying to process the events of the previous day.

It was a room that Pluto had taken great pleasure in decorating over the course of the last few millenia. While she organised her thoughts, the senshi of time allowed her eyes to pass over the many artifacts she had acquired throughout her long, long existence. Her eyes fell on the cabinet closest to the bed. On it sat an exquisite crystal decanter, the last purchase she had allowed herself before the fall of the Silver Millenium. The Ionian amsec (a delicious and slightly narcotic beverage which had been produced exclusively by Guild of Brewers on Saturn's moons), had long since been consumed. Yet, the item itself had been, even at the time, an antique of near priceless value. A relic of the pre-unification era, she could still faintly feel the sense of euphoria she had experienced when she had found it sitting on some street-vendors stall, dusty and neglected. It had not taken long for someone of her stature to persuade the merchant to part with the item and its contents, her status as the Princess of Pluto had resulted in a significant discount and a gift of the decanter itself. To this day she was still unaware if the merchant had been truly aware of the value of his gift but she had repaid his kindness in kind, taking his family into her patronage. Last she had heard, before the Fall, he had been one of the most respected traders in the Outer realms. Her eyes left the decanter and began to drift once more. Here, a flint-headed spear, one of the first weapons crudely mashed together by humanity's survivors since the fall. There, an Ancient Babylonian amulet, imbued with the power to alter the flow of time in one's immediate vicinity (a dangerous magical stone embedded within, had somehow managed to wind its way to Terra from the inner vaults of her castle on Pluto, most likely because fate had demanded it do so. Fortunately the Prince who had taken possession of the amulet had not abused its abilities too badly. It had been easy to remove it from his family vaults once the need for it's powers had passed). There was even a _jian_ sword hanging on the wall, a brother to the 'Sword of Goujian' she had taken from the hands of one of the ancient Warlord's favored generals (after his untimely demise in battle of course). Slowly but surely her thoughts returned to the present and the implications of what she had discovered during her investigation.

The Gates of Time had been tampered with. Who or what could have done such a thing she did not know but what it meant for her and her charges... it left her feeling terrified in a way she had not felt since the final battle in Serenity's palace. She cursed herself for a fool, gripping the arms of the armchair she was currently sitting in hard enough to dent the wood. It was her fault and she knew it. All the Gates would currently show her were the events she had become accustomed to viewing of the last couple of centuries, the rise of her fellow Senshi and the subsequent establishment of Crystal Tokyo, as well as the corresponding timelines and events tied into that particular interpretation of the future. It was as if she had been viewing an incredibly intricate and convoluted video clip with a hundred thousand variations representing alternate events that had been 'recorded' from before the Gates had been hacked (like something out of a cheesy heist movie, where the security camera footage was played on a loop to fool the unwitting security team). 'Hacked', she thought, with a tremble of panic. Such a thing should be impossible. Even at the height of the golden age of the Silver Millennium, no technology had existed that would have even come close to accomplishing what her shadowy adversaries had achieved. That meant that the Senshi were currently facing a foe, the kind that even the senshi of old had never encountered. Hell, a Juraian Tree-ship would be unable to replicate the feat, even if given access to the the Gate's core processor, its defenses were that good. It would take time, a lot of time, Setsuna knew, before she would be able to remove the malignant influence from the system. It may even require her to initiate a full system reboot which would effectively put her out of commission for several months. Months she knew she did not currently possess. The Silence was coming, of that she _was _sure, and the Princess would require her full support if she were to weather the many trials to come. If only she had been more vigilant, more focused on the present rather than the distant future, more...

Putting the growing sense of hopelessness and despair she felt within her to one side. Pluto took a moment to re-establish a modicum of her usual, rational calm, To keep her mind occupied she decided to think about the changes that _had_ occurred to the time-stream, those that she _was_ aware of, and what it could mean for the immediate future.

Ranma Saotome was dead. There was really no doubt about that. She had been there to witness his end and had even collected the shattered remains of his heart crystal before the police had arrived on the scene. One such piece she fondled even now, turning it over and over in her delicate, white-gloved hand. She took a moment to examine it. Really it was like nothing she had ever seen before. Normally a person's heart crystal took of a vaguely star-shaped spiky formation when forced to materialise in the physical realm. Ranma's, on the other hand, looked like it had been almost orb-like and cut like a very fine gem, maybe a byproduct of his adept usage of spiritual energy. The piece she held sparkled in the light of the roaring fire that warmed her quarters, its many faucets catching the light. For a moment the breath caught in her throat as something like an unearthly golden glow seemed to return to the shard, and a small spark hope blossomed in her breast. Did Ranma's spirit still linger? Did a shred of his soul still cling to it's previous receptacle, waiting for the power of the princess to restore him to life? In that brief moment it truly seemed so. Then, as she twisted the piece once more, the light faded along with her hopes, and the lump of crystal became dull and lifeless once more.

Pluto sighed. Such feelings were absurd she knew, but where Ranma was concerned nothing was... had been, she corrected herself sadly, impossible. While she had never known the boy personally she had watched him from time to time as he grew up. A warning from her future self had, seventeen years ago alerted her to Ranma's birth and the potential important effects he and his descendants would have on Crystal Tokyo. The contract, the neko-ken, even Jusenkyo... all the major turning points in his life she taken it upon herself to be present, knowing even as she watched that with little interference here, a little dabble there in the timeline, would have saved the boy a great deal of future pain. But she had not dared. Mirai-Pluto had told her that, under no circumstances, was she to become an active player in Ranma's development until he had voluntarily returned to his home in Juuban. There she would, under the guise of a family friend, help to shape him into the man he would become. As a staunch supporter of Serenity and her Court and the head of her reformed Lunar Guard after the Great Freeze, he would be an integral part of the Senshi's defense force in the years leading to the establishment of their reborn kingdom. It was his destiny, thought Pluto sadly, to die in his sleep at the grand old age of 503, surrounded by his family and students, his life extended by his powerful ki techniques and the leaps in technology implemented by Mercury in the wake of the new age of humanity. In her own way she had become very fond of the boy, his selfless dedication to the art, the abuses he suffered at the hands of others and his refusal to abandon his honour in the line of duty. She had found herself looking forward to the day when she would meet him in person. However, it seemed, even her future self had either been unaware of the crisis she now faced, or if she was she was not telling... She had had no contact with Mirai-Pluto since the last visit of Small Lady but if events had been altered did Crystal Tokyo even exist any more? Were the senshi even alive? What about the young princess? Had she arrived back home in her own time safely only to vanish from existence...

Pluto savagely halted that line of thought.

'Concentrate!', she berated herself, 'Don't get distracted, such thoughts have their time and place and that is not now!' Taking a deep breath, Pluto continued her train of thought from where she left off...

After Ranma had departed for the training trip Pluto had begun to put her plans into operation. The first step had been to strike up a rapport with Nodoka, a surprisingly easy task as the lonely young woman had gratefully latched onto the kind and supporting persona Setsuna had presented. Then something strange had happened. Somewhere down the line, she still didn't know how, Setsuna had actually become fond of Nodoka Saotome. What had once been a necessity became a pleasure and had quickly developed, much to Setsuna's surprise, into a real friendship. Nodoka provided Setsuna with that connection with humanity that she had lacked for so long, reminding her of what she and the Senshi were fighting for. Setsuna, on the other hand, found herself providing Nodoka with what wise counsel she was allowed to offer and a shoulder to cry on for the distraught young mother. Soon both women found they shared a great interest in fashion and, although the Saotome wife's tastes were a little too conservative for the Senshi of Time (a woman who had to wear a risque fuku in order to carry out her duties could not afford to be too prudish), their conversations and the arguments that followed had become the highlight of Setsuna's week. Setsuna had made the arrangments for Nodoka to take a job at Naru's mother's jewelry store, an action she had allowed herself after seeing how distraught and drawn the woman would become as her husband's idiocy began to come back to haunt her. She remembered how excited her friend at been when she had at long last been reunited with her son and had been forced to hide a smile as Nodoka ranted about her family's participation in the antics of 'Ranko Tendo' and her pet 'Mr. Panda'. Now, it seemed, she would have to be the one stood by her as she laid that same son to rest. She wiped away the tears that were threatening to form. It was the least she could do.

The events at the shrine last night had been most disturbing. In her entire life, Pluto had never heard of any phenomena that would result in all the system's senshi simultaneously responding to the call of their respective planets. The call had been irresistible to the young girls, drawing them in and carressing their souls with promises of peace and happiness. After the song had faded and their control had returned the Inners had discussed the event at length, and after s few antics and outbursts, had all come to the same conclusion. It was as if a piece of them, that they had never known was missing since their reincarnation, had now been returned to them, that they felt truly 'whole' once more.

'It doesn't make any sense at all', Pluto thought as she re-examined her own feelings from the other night and found that she could identify with the Inner's conclusions. 'There are no more senshi to awaken apart from Saturn and I very much doubt that the reunion of the Senshi of Silence with her former comrades will be heralded as a joyous event for the solar system as a whole.'

Nor were their any significant allies Setsuna was aware of, from the Silver Millenium, that were to awaken and/or return to their princess's service. At least none that would elicit that sort of response from her and her peers' planetary bodies.

By Serenity, she hated feeling this way. The uncertainty, the unexpected surprises. With the Gates out of commission her foresight was effectively crippled, her powers stunted. The only thing she could do now was to continue on where she left off, guiding the time-line as best she knew how and protecting her fellow senshi.

'And', she thought as an idea sprung to mind, 'the Gates are not the only scrying tool I possess' She knew Rei had access to the sacred fire of her temple and with her ki techniques Pluto felt that maybe the fiery young princess of Mars would be able to provide her with some of the answers she so desperately needed. There was no sense in telling the Princess of the extra problems that they now faced, along with the Witches 5. It would only worry her and distract her from her immediate concerns.

'One thing at a time', she thought coldly as she got to her feet, summoning the Garnet rod to her person, 'One thing at a time!'

She vanished.

(XXX)

She could feel the chill setting in. An unpleasant contrast to the sun which had, until the last half an hour or so, had been wrapping her nude form in it's warm glow. The voice appeared concerned too. Her mind was still too muddled to make out any coherent words but its tone told her that it was worried for her well-being. For the last hour or so she had been slowly floating through the air over the most beautiful expanse of wilderness, darting off in different directions seemingly at random. At one point she had passed over what appeared to be a small village of some kind and an odd pressure had begun to build up at the base of her skull. The pressure had given away to mild pain which spread and intensified until, whimpering and crying with pain, the voice had taken control and directed her away from the populated area. Almost immediately the pain had lessened and then vanished. Now they avoided all signs of habitation. At the slightest feeling of pressure the voice altered their flightpath and continued its search for...what?

During her reminiscing she failed to notice that she had begun to descend towards the earth. Her fiery cloak which had billowed around her since her birth began to retract itself into her body, flapping it's great wings gracefully even as it lowered her towards the ground. When she returned to her senses she noticed the entrance to a great cave, the tunnel within extending into the depths of the shied back fearfully, the darkness unwelcoming and forbidding but the voice was suddenly there again, at the forefront of her thoughts, calming her with its soothing whispers, urging her forward. It was important, she knew, to heed the voice's advice but she knew without a doubt that evil things lurked in the dark. Glowing-eyed demons with tearing claws and mercilessly sharp teeth that would rake and bite her mercilessly until she succumbed to her despair. It took her about five minutes to steel herself for what she must do and the warmth the voice invoked helped to strengthen her resolve. The voice was patient and kind. It murmured inquiringly and she began to drift forward slowly, the darkness reaching out to engulf her. She nodded fearfully, hesitantly. As if in answer to her fears, the remnants of her cloak ceased in it's withdrawal, halting it's return to her body, dancing across her skin instead as impish little flickers of light which pushed back the darkness. She felt a wave of gratitude as the voice reassured her of it's love for her, and her courage returned. Emboldened as she was, she looked on with interest as she was gently levitated by the remains of an enormous boulder that hat once blocked the passage to the heart of the hill. It had been split in two, right down the middle. Upon closer inspection one might see the faded remains of a shinto sealing ward that had once decorated the imposing obstacle, the tattered rope's fibres frayed and brittle, a few scraps of paper scattered around, yellowed with age. She, however, noticed none of these things. Rather she was more interested in the way the craggy, natural rock formations of the cave were beginning to give way to smoother, more precise walls, indicating their artificial construction. Deeper and deeper she drifted, into the darkness and as she did so she noticed her thoughts were becoming clearer and less muddled. It was as if a fog was lifting from her mind. It took another ten minutes before the voice finished guiding her to it's intended destination, a large hollowed-out cavern, in the very center of the hillside. It was completely empty, bar the odd pile of rubble here and there, and as she was lowered to the floor she felt the cool, slightly damp rock kiss the soles of her bare feet.

She squeaked a little in surprise, and stumbled slightly as she felt the control of her body return to her once more. She took one tentative step and then another, wobbling in an ungainly fashion as she struggled to maintain her balance. Something about her body felt off, her balance was all wrong and her limbs felt either longer of shorter than they ought to be. It was all a little waved her hands around wildly like a windmill as she felt her body betray her once more and with a plop she fell to the floor.

Pulling herself into a sitting position she looked around wildly as the sound of bright laughter echoed all around her before she relaxed. It was just the voice. But here, in the cave it was so clear and she felt a glorious smile plaster itself on her face as she was able to make out it's words for the first time.

'_Come to me my child', _it sang, _'Come to me we have much to do and little time to waste!'_

She felt an odd tugging sensation, right in the middle of her forehead. She unconsciously shifted her body into the lotus position and allowed her eyes to close as if in slumber. For a moment all was peace and tranquility and then... the inside of the cavern was painted in a rich light as a column of golden energy sprang into being around her body. She gave way to the tugging sensation and felt the mortal world fall away around her.

Her body suddenly seemed smaller, more fragile. Leaving behind the distractions of that vibrant strong body she remembered what and more importantly who she was. Despair filled her slight, wispy ethereal form but she knew even as she felt them that such feelings were unfair. It had been... like a dream to be free again, it seemed like an eternity since her imprisonment all those years ago. But this was not her life. It was his and he deserved to have it back. The white swirling mass surrounding her was quickly giving away to a much darker and thicker mist that fogged and obscured her vision until... she saw him. He was standing there, waiting, as she knew he would be. As she touched down before him she felt the weight of her duty settle on her like a heavy cloak. She had to make him understand, to make him accept his new life. But how, how could she possibly make him see it for the wonder it was? He was so powerful, so strong and she... was a wisp of who she had been in life. She looked at her pale, skinny arms. She looked at her once proud chest, now deflated and withered like the rest of her soul. She couldn't bear to look at him as he stood there, majestic and whole as she had been 1500 years ago. She looked away, down at her bony little feet, with a gaze so intense that they seemed to become her whole world. She would let him make the first move, she decided, as she steeled herself for the conflict to come and then she would... and then...

Then she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her and caring fingers began to run through her hair. All negative thoughts she had been having vanished under the attention she was receiving and for a moment she forgot herself and she let herself relax, snuggling deeper into her protector's embrace. It had been so long since she had been held by the warm arms of another human being, rather than caged by the magical chains that had shackled her for 1500 years. She opened her eyes and gazed up into a twin pools of stormy grey. She saw the concern, the hope for her well-being and the answer to her unasked question. She didn't know how he knew but then he nodded and smiled that beautiful smile she found herself beyond caring. She sighed in happiness as she felt the heat swell within her and 'reach' out. She gasped in pleasure as his threads of spirit spiralled around her own. She beamed blissfully, resting her head against his toned masculine chest..

From the back of the mind a few words bubbled up, words she knew were never more fitting than for this moment.

"Tadaima", she whispered. I'm home

"Okaeri" came the reply, a deep rich voice full of emotion. Welcome back.

(XXX)

Pheonix watched as the two young people clutched at one another and brushed away a glistening tear. The older male spirit held his female half to him tenderly, like a loving brother, or proud father. He had an expression of peace on his face, a calmness that had never had a chance to exist during life. The girl-spirit just sobbed, allowing herself to be held as tears of joy streaming down her dainty cheeks. The emotions of her host were playing havoc with her own state of mind, part of the gift of the bond. She was shocked, however, when the pair began to a soft golden glow. She hadn't expected the joining process to go so smoothly. Not after the difficulties her host had suffered in life. If anything she had expected to play the part of negotiator and mediator for the fractured psyches. Instead, she watched with pride and a kind of wonder as the two persons began to meld together. The glow had spread from their union until it manifested as a corona of spirit energy, swirling around them until it had reached such an intensity that it was almost blinding in it's radiance. With a tremendous flare of power, the golden energy blew outwards, only to be drawn back inwards, disappearing into the solitary figure remaining at the center of the blast. Phoenix watched as it collapsed. A soft snoring sound echoed throughout the nothingness of their surroundings. She sighed and scrubbed her eyes free of tears.

'Time to go to work.', she thought as she materialised next to her downed host.

(XXX)

Deep in the black of an infinitely large subspace laboratory all hell was breaking loose. The pitch of the wails and the shriek of the sirens would have deafen lesser ears but their maker was made of sterner stuff. This was of course taking into account the pair of sound-deadening earmuffs she had quickly whipped on from somewhere about her person at the first signs of an imminent ear-rupturing cacophony. It goes without saying however that the rest of the members of the household were not so fortunate and were currently spasming wildly, clutching their ears at her feet.

The girl left standing looked to be around thirteen years of age, her pinkish-red hair tied back to to create a spiky halo of locks that framed her artfully designed, cherubic features. Her eyes were bright, vivid green and were currently shining with a manic curiosity as she called up the data reports from her sensors guarding the perimeter of the property. Her name was Washu Habuki, over 20,000 years old, alien and self-styled greatest genius in the known universe. Her eyes seemed to grow even bigger and her stare became equal parts trepidation and overwhelming excitement as she read over the reports.

"Life energy readings are of the scale!", she cackled, uncaring that no one could hear her (or that a few of them were contemplating skinning her alive at that very moment), "irregular fluctuations of tachyon particles indicating localised space-time manipulation, and... wow... clear evidence of powerful psionic energies being exercised by the being in question... So who did you manage to tick off this time hmm... Tenchi-kun?' Tenchi-kun?"

A hand grabbed her ankle and she glanced down to note a twitching, frantically signalling boy, about 18 years of age, with his black hair tied back in a small ponytail. Tenchi Masaki, crown prince of the planet Jurai and hero of the galaxy several times over, screwed up his dark eyes in agony as the unholy shrieking of Washu's alarms sent stab after stab of white-hot pain, lancing into his brain. Washu stared at him questioningly before proving that even geniuses can lack a little common sense by reaching up to remove part of her headset to hear what he was saying.

"Yes Tenchi-kun is there something you don't understaAAARGH!", she began before her enquiry erupted into a high-pitched scream as she too felt the effects of her own security.

Just managing to save herself from toppling from her seat, Washu's fingers began to fly over her keyboard, dismantling the sensors one by one until she finally managed to get the security systems back under control. Everyone sighed gratefully as the noise, that terrible noise, cut off abruptly and climbed back to their feet.

Tenchi, as the first to his feet, quickly bent down to assist the youngest of the group up off of the floor, Sasami. A little girl, looking to be about 12 (although in reality she was much, much older), she had her pale blue hair done up in twin ponytails, large pink eyes and a cute smattering of freckles above her nose. Her older sister, Ayeka pulled herself together next and laid a hand on her younger sister's shoulder, inquiring if she were all right. Sasami nodded eagerly. Unlike her, her older sister had deep, violet hair, with twin ponytails that trailed down her back. She did. however share the younger girl's pink eye colour, even if her own were a little lighter. Ayeka was always over protective of her, and Sasami had no intention of being sent away from the excitement about to begin for fear of her health. Both sister's were royalty, princesses of the Juraian Empire, a vast galaxy spanning power that had stood for many thousands of years and were both, technically, Tenchi's aunts.

Ayeka's rival and main contender for Tenchi's heart, Ryoko Habuki, phased up through the floor where she had attempted to take shelter from the worst of the noise. From the way she was fiddling with her larger than average ears it would appear that she had been unsuccessful. A creation of her mother, Washu, as part of a great experiment in years gone by, Ryoko had been one of the galaxy's most feared space pirates until she was defeated and imprisoned on earth by Tenchi's grandfather, Katsuhito Masaki, 700 years ago. The former-renegade floated in mid-air glaring daggers down at her mother Wachu, her feral golden eyes glittering and her long, cyan hair bristling wildly like a mane behind her. Her usual partner, Ryo-Ohki (a man-made sentient spaceship called a cabbit that usually took the appearance of a tiny furry creature, a cross between a feline and a rabbit) was not present. The final member of the little troupe would not be getting up any time soon. a girl with much darker skin than her companions, the Galaxy Police officer Mihoshi Kuramitsu, still lay poleaxed on the ground. A gorgeous blonde with a ditzy personality, the rest of the gang were content to leave her be. No doubt she would be up and about again in no time but for the meantime, bad things tended to happen in Washu's lab while Mihoshi was around. There was no need to tempt fate by hastening the girl's recovery.

"What the hell are you up to 'Mom'!", shrieked Ryoko, as she flew over to scream in Washu's face, "That really hurt damn it! You could've deafened everyone!"

Washu, thoroughly unperturbed by her daughter's death-glare (and everyone else's for that matter), gave her daughter a cute little smile and, with a dramatic flourish, increased the size of her holographic computer monitor for all to see.

"Since the last encounter we had with intergalactic power's hell-bent on destroying the galaxy", she began, ignoring the incredulous stares she was now getting from everyone, "I decided that a little upgrade of our defenses in order. To that end I installed a system of monitors, motion sensors and scout-bots to patrol both the grounds around the house and the shrine."

She pointed a series of charts that simultaneously popped up on the screen and continued " As you can see, my precautions were well worth the effort. Not 5 minutes and 34 seconds Earth seconds ago a class-omega alien entity passed through the wards and entered the grounds of the Yosho-kun's shrine."

Dead silence greeted her announcement causing the diminutive scientist to pout cutely. She had been expecting applause. Seconds past and then...

"Washu-s..., I mean Washu-chan!", Tenchi corrected himself wildly as Washu turned her own death-glare on the young man. For some reason he could not understand Washu truly hated the proper honorifics. "Could you explain what that means exactly? What do you mean by class-omega? Should we be concerned?"

"Tenchi.", Ryoko floated over, her usual smirk nowhere to be seen, a grim expression now plastered on her face, "Omega is the highest threat classification given to intergalactic criminals. When K-Kagato..." Tenchi watched as the space-pirate steeled herself, he knew that talking about her enslavement to that monster was especially difficult for her. Sasami reached up to pat Ryoko's back soothingly earning her a greatful smile. "Thanks Sasami", said Ryoko before continuing, "When that bastard controlled me I was at the peak of my powers and could destroy an entire Juraian war-fleet. Even then I only held an Alpha ranking."

Tenchi paled visibly. "And one of those criminals has landed near grandfather's shrine?" He looked ready to rush off but the gentle words of the eldest Juraian princess made him pause as they answered his question."

"Not necessarily Tenchi-dono", all eyes turned to Ayeka (All bar Washu's,she was still in a huff at the lack of applause for her fore-sightedness). Seeing she was now the centre of attention, a position she very much enjoyed, Ayeka smiled slightly as she explained with her eyes closed and her right index finger raised in a lecturing pose. "The classification system merely represents the potential that a non-aligned enitity, that is, one not affiliated with the Juraian Empire or it's allies, has for causing harm. It's really just rough indication of an individual's strength."

"So...", said Tenchi thoughfully, as he let that information digest, "this person near grandfather's shrine may not be evil... just incredibly strong?"

"Exactly!", said Ayeka while Sasami backed her up with a cheerful nod. "Of course...", she continued, frowning slightly, "it does beg the question of what such a creature would be doing here... this is an underdeveloped planet under the jurisdiction of the Juraian Empire after all."

Everyone turned their attention back to Washu who had begun to cackle to herself as she reviewed the data again, muttering about samples and guinea pigs happily while furiously typing reams of information her hovering keyboard. Suddenly they all felt very uncomfortable and worried for their newest visitor.

"W-Washu-chan, can you tell us where, _exactly_, we can find this person?", asked Tenchi cautiously, not very happy to be drawing the attention of the excited scientist lest he should draw her scientific curiosity back to himself. However he knew from experience that just hoping a problem would just... disappear rarely worked out for the best. He needed to confront his newest 'guest' quickly and hope to Tsunami that things didn't get out of hand.

That he remembered to use her preferred title caused Washu to beam sweetly at the boy.

"Why of course Tenchi-kun, in fact my computer is currently plotting it's location as we speak,", she sidled over to the boy and ran a finger up and down his sculpted chest as she spoke, eliciting a pair of angry growls from Ayeka and Ryoko and a stream of sputtering nonsense from Tenchi. She giggled cutely, secretly pleased that she could still fluster the boy (and annoy her delinquent daughter at the same time of course). An evil thought occured to her. "Of course if you agree to supply me with a few... _samples..._ I could be persuaded to divert more power to the central processors and..."

"MOTHER!", howled Ryoko in warning, Ayeka bristling by her side as lightning arced around fuming form. Sasami watched on in interest as Tenchi continued to sputter (It was a not-so-secret secret that she too had a bit of a crush on the boy she had earlier dubbed her big brother). She wondered if Washu would be willing to give her a few tips.

With a chilling, creepy, high-pitched laugh, Washu span around and returned to her machinations. A little dancing, fan waving, chibi-Washu appeared on the screen a moment later to signal her success. "Hmmm... now this is interesting...", she said before continuing to type, to the annoyance of her audience.

"What - is - so - interesting?", ground out Ryoko, between gritted teeth, thoroughly fed-up of her mother's antics by now. Ayeka and Tenchi were both sporting similarly annoyed looks and even Sasami looked as if her patience were running a little thin by now.

Washu turned back to face everyone, hopping up to sit in mid-air before adopting a serious expression. "It seems our newest guest", she began, before pausing for dramatic effect, "has made itself at home in Ryoko's former prison. It seems with have a squatter on our hands." She looked around for a moment everyone's faces before noticing something. Giving a great start of panic, Washu began to look wildly around, sweat forming on her brow. She stopped suddenly and went stock still. Her eyes hidden in shadow her next words sent a chill down everyone's spines.

"Has anyone seen Mihoshi?"

(XXX)

Katsuhito Masaki sat in quiet meditation pondering the arrival of the newcomer to the grounds of the shrine. She was powerful to be sure (her life force positively identifying her as female to Katsuhito's highly trained senses), but neither he nor Funaho could detect a hint of malevolent intent. The shrine itself seemed to be relishing her presence, the spiritual energies of the holy place reaching out to her as if greeting an old friend. He decided to let Tenchi handle the situation. If his grandson truly need help then he could always step in to interfere but until then it would be good practise in diplomacy for when the boy finally ascended to the throne.

He opened his eyes as a happy little tune carried itself to him on the wind and he saw the welcome sight of the resident busty blond skipping her way towards Ryoko's cave. She was polishing her galaxy police badge as she went and checking her weapon.

'Oh dear', he thought with a mischievous chuckle. In one smooth motion he stood from his seated position and began to amble slowly after Mihoshi, only stopping to lift a bokken from the wall as he did so.

"Oh Tenchi my boy! How will you get out of this one?" he whispered, eyes twinkling merrily.

(XXX)

"Wake up Ranma... It's time to wake up!"

"A couple more minutes Akane … mmm"

"Ranma, it's not Akane and I really need you to wake up!"

"Don't want to... Mom..."

"Ranma! It's me! Wake up!"

Ranma groaned and opened her eyes to find her her vision blurry, her head pounding like a thousand tiny tomboys were running amok in her skull. She raised a delicate hand to her forehead and ran it through her hair. It was a little strange to find herself female but the weight on her chest left her with little doubts that she had been splashed overnight.

"Probably that damn Ryoga...", she grumbled.

'Strange', the thought drifted into her sleep-addled mind. The weight felt less than usual and her arms seemed a little longer than she was used to. Hell, come to think of it, her hands felt a little bigger and her ki...

Her eyes snapped open wide in shock. She sprang to her feet only to fall face first into the hard wooden floor. She began to shake uncontrollably, her trembling hands roaming over her body fitfully, drinking in what her senses were telling her. Her throat was dry, her head swimming and she began to breathe in short gasps as shock set in. She didn't hear the startled cries of her companion nor did she feel the arms as they frantically battled to restrain her own, which were now leaving bleeding trails in their wake as her nails clawed at her skin. Ranma's mind was a haze of denial and fear.

Ranma didn't know how long she lay there trapped in her own maze of thoughts. This wasn't her body. This wasn't either of her bodies. How could this of happened? Why... Why had it happened to her? Why did this sort of crap always happen to her?... Her eyes began to tear up. Something was definitely very different to the other times she had been locked as a female. This time it was serious. She couldn't even feel it. That normally ever-present trace of her former self. Even as a girl she had always maintained that connection. Her life force had always remained the same, her energy predominantly male. But now...

Nothing. Not a trace of her usual male energy to be found. The energy she found felt foreign, alien, to her trained senses, slipping through her attempts to harness it like clear spring water sliding through a drinker's fingers. What could have happened. The last thing she remembered, the last thing she remembered...

Memories came flooding back to the prone martial artist in a wave of sensation.

Warmth, love, acceptance! An yawning darkness threatening to swallow her. The delicious mixed sensation of the sun's rays playing along her back while her toes dipped into the cool ocean waters. The ultimate feeling of freedom as the wind caressed her bare skin. Dancing among the clouds. Heat washing over her as flames licked her limbs as she screamed her birth-song to the stars. Cold, the void surrounding her as she prepared for judgement. The indescribably feeling of her very soul being ripped from her body. The black beam of light... Setsuna-san, Mom, Pop, Akane...

(XXX)

When she came to several hours later she felt her wrists being held in twin grips of iron. A feeling at odds with gentle hug she was being enveloped in and the soft sweet nothings that were being whispered into her ear. Deciding, for the moment, to keep up the pretense of unconsciousness until she got her bearings, Ranma kept her eyes tightly shut. The lilt of the voice identified her comforter as female and the breath of the person was tickling her earlobe in a not-unpleasant way. For once in her life felt no need to immediately disengage herself from the comforting embrace. Normally by now she would be scrambling for the hills in the wake of imminent feminine rage (either at the hands of her comforter or the jealous attentions of one or all of her fiancees) but this time she held the conditioned reaction in check. She could hear the care in the woman's voice and instead of the usual panic, in the face of close proximity to a woman, she felt instead an odd, intense wave of gratitude at the kindness and attention being shown her. The voice was also oddly familiar to her muddled thoughts and it brought, unbidden to her mind, the dreams of a simpler time she had used to cherish as a child.

Whilst growing up, on the evening of a particularly bad beating by his father, Ranma had often dreamt of being held in his mother's arms. He would imagine her soft words of encouragement and tender smile. The way she would stroke his hair and tell him everything would be o.k. The way she would beam at him, proudly and without judgement, as his father watched the interaction between mother and son from a distance. In Ranma's mind, Genma would be sporting a satisfied smile which had barely managed to escape from his usual stoic mask of contempt and disapproval. Instead of their normal piggy gleam, his eyes would instead be twinkling in excitement at his son's achievements and the love he felt for his family. He, Ranma, would soak in the imagined feelings of approval and affection and suddenly the world would not seem so bad. He would snuggle down in his blanket (should Genma deign to leave him one of course) and let sleep take him. In those dreams of course his mother had never had proper face. Her features would remain forever obscured and her voice would never be the same twice. The only thing that remained consistent was the feel of the elaborate kimono she always wore. Even after meeting with his mother for the first time in 10 years, a little over 7 months ago, he still couldn't quite decide whether the kimono's presence in his dreams represented some part of his fractured childhood memories manifesting themselves or merely part of a foolish childish fantasy of the perfect elegant mother to rescue him from his father's cruelty.

Ranma basked in the feelings a little longer before deciding, reluctantly, it was time to return to the real world. She didn't seem to be in any danger. In fact now that her memories of the last couple of days had begun to return to her she had a pretty good idea of where she was and more importantly who was holding her. She opened her eyes and took in once more the predicted bland featureless surroundings she had begun to come to expect from her visits to the Astral Plane. Her eyes felt gummy and a little sore.

'Crying again!', she thought in disgust, recognising the cause of her discomfort. She was disappointed in herself, 'I've gotta get a grip on these damn emotions, their playing havoc with my control... Pops would have a fit if he knew...damn panda!"

She cleared her throat but, when the woman gave no indication that she had heard her, she tried to speak only to let loose a dry croak. She built up and swallowed a mouthful of saliva before trying again.

"P...Pheo...Phoenix-san?"

Her voice was different than before. It no longer held the familiar tones of her girl...her previous girl form. It was deeper, a little huskier and gentler. 'A woman's voice', she suddenly realised, 'not a girl's. What's happened to me?'

"Yes Ranma?", came the amused reply. Phoenix's voice had changed too, different yet something about it tickled her senses. It sounded… nice, pleasant even and soothing.

"Wh... What happened to me Phoenix-san?..."

"You died Ranma... and I brought you back to this world, as I promised I would.", Phoenix's voice was calm and when she mentioned Ranma's death ti was said in such a relaxed tone, she could just as easily been discussing the weather.

Ranma swallowed heavily and a pit seemed to form at the base of her stomach. Up until now it had been so hazy, so dream-like, but hearing the fact of her demise stated so blatantly brought back all the details of her final desperate struggle. The hopelessness as she dived to defend those helpless civilians from that monster's brutal attacks, the despair, the adrenaline, the moment of his death. Everything snapped into place and she remembered...

"I remember. I died. Yes I died. The light, it killed me. But before, the fire, the flight... was that me or..."

Phoenix let out a little sigh and tightened her grip momentarily around her young host, giving her a reassuring squeeze before trying to explain.

"You have to understand Ranma that when you died I needed to recreate a female body for you, a true female body, to allow for us to bond. Before you died I could have bonded with you using your female form as a catalyst but... with the shattering of your soul crystal... such an action became impossible. Also, I could not recreate the effects of Jusenkyo-cursed magic. I am no being of magic, regardless of appearances, nor do I have much in the way of aptitude for it. Lastly, creating a male body for you was not an option. Our souls were joined the moment you accepted the position of being my to try and form such an incompatible body around us... let us just say that the results would have been more than unpleasant and would more than likely resulted in our shared demise."

Ranma nodded resignedly to indicate her understanding so far. The loss of her male form was something that, after her brief breakdown, she had been putting out of her thoughts but now, for some strange reason, she was able to think of the matter without the expected feeling of emptiness and worthlessness that had so often accompanied her previous forays into permanent womanhood. It was an odd. And she had her suspicions as to what it meant.

"When I bonded with you Ranma your life became my life, your emotions my emotions, your thoughts my thoughts. I know everything there is to know you my host and I know what you both hated and most enjoyed about your double life. I decided to create a body using your original self as a template to preserve your unique abilities and yet at the same time utilising the strengths of both your forms. The extended reach and height of your male self, combined with the added flexibility and agility of your female half. I also advanced your metabolism to the point were you have reached your peak physical ability, around 22 earth years I believe."

"But then came the key issue, the greatest challenge. Despite your life as a female before now you were still saturated with male life force energy. To take your male soul and bond it to a female body without any kind of transition would have most likely have also had disastrous consequences. So at the moment of your death I used the fragment of soul of the drowned girl left within your body by the Jusenkyo magic, which had been imprinted into your body along with the curse. While I repaired the damage which had been wrought upon you by your unthinking oaf of a father and nurtured your soul back to health, I allowed it control and in return she helped nurture your spirit by exposing it to her own. I had hoped that with her help you would be able to accept your new life and survive the shock of your transition to true womanhood."

Here Phoenix seemed to pause Ranma noticed, maybe to give her time to absorb the ramifications behind her words. But Ranma could not help but think of the darkness, the memory of it loomed in her mind. She...He remembered waiting there, in a limbo of ice and then... that glorious moment of happiness as the angel arrived to save him. But she hadn't been an angel, he realised that now... no, he had realised it the moment he had laid eyes on her and noted her flowing red hair and sky blue eyes... He faintly heard Phoenix continue her explanation:

"But then you surprised me Ranma, just as you did when you fought Saffron. I brought your other self here to safeguard her whilst I worked to to reach some sort of accord between souls but..."

Ranma heard the smile rather than saw it.

"You accepted her Ranma, I watched as you opened your arms to that young girl and welcomed the joining unconditionally. I admit was a little touched and overwhelmed...Ranma you truly did not mind your curse did you? At least not any more?"

The memories came flying at her now, assaulting her mind relentlessly. The girl had looked so lost, so alone, so pathetic and thin. Her soul's form had been emaciated to the point of being skeletal. Her eyes exhausted and dark rings surrounded them and something deep inside him had realised, on some deep primal level, that this girl belonged to him, that without her then he would never be complete. Suddenly he knew that male, female, none of it really mattered anymore, had ever truly mattered to begin with. All that mattered was that the girl needed him and he could help her, accept her, give her a place to belong. He had taken her in his arms and soothed her shivering form, holding her too him. Her happiness had flowed from her and the moment of joining had been intense, almost orgasmic in it's intensity.

"No", Ranma replied dreamily, relishing the feeling of the fingers passing through her crimson locks. "No, not since Jusendo... but I never felt as I do now. So at peace with everything... But I am I really... him Phoenix... who am I?.. I remember being Ranma but there are other things... memories, faint ones of another life... her..."

Another pause, another sigh...

"You are right of course", was her reply, "When you accepted the spirit of the pool you fused ther remnants of her soul to your own. In essence Ranma your union gave birth to a new spirit, a better and improved spirit.",

A chuckle followed the statement and Ranma found herself giggling along for no particular reason except that she loved the sound. Their shared laughter echoed around them in a haunting harmony that served to raise her spirits even further. But then, as the laughter died, Phoenix said something she didn't expect and Ranma found herself rising from Phoenix's lap to stare her carer in the face for the first time since her awakening, eyes wide in shock.

"You could say that, thanks to your decision, the new you is, in fact, the child of both Ranma Saotome and and Girl of Jusenkyo's springs."

"Congratulations Ranma! It's a girl!"

(XXX)

Ranma pouted cutely even as she took in Phoenix's new, once again, giggling form. If Ranma was now the perfect union of her two halves, the Phoenix was a union between the two favourite women in her life. Her long auburn hair was pulled behind her head in a loose pony-tail and her eyes were a soft, comforting brown. Her skin was pale, but not so much as to be pasty and her features were slightly less sculpted than her own but beautifully proportioned. She wore a light-sky-blue kimono, decorated with golden cherry-blossom trees and falling petals. In her air she held the gentle calm that Kasumi exuded unconsciously yet tempered with the almost regal disposition practiced by Nodoka Saotome. She looked to be about thirty years old and she was seated demurely, kneeling. Her hands, no longer occupied by Ranma's scarlet tresses, now rested on her knees , shaking slightly in the older woman's laughter. Ranma felt her pout melting away to be replaced by a smile of her own at the older woman's antics. She felt... good... being around the being that now shared her mind-scape. Not to mention her announcement, after the initial shock was doing wonders to help her organise her still scattered and scrambled thoughts.

Ranma Saotome was dead but in with his death and subsequent actions had brought into being (with a little help from the female spring-spirit) a new life... her! She had been conceived as a product of the consensual union of two souls joined in spiritual harmony. What else could she be but ...her tortured mind latched onto the thought like a lifeline. As Ranma's daughter she was a real girl who as a final gift had been granted all her predecessor's skills and memories. Ranma's daughter had a loving, caring father (sadly deceased) rather than a fat, lazy panda seeking to exploit her endlessly for his own benefit. Ranma's daughter had been born a girl (a life that thanks to her new 'mother' she no longer felt an aversion to) and as such was no longer bound to a misguided honor pledge to live up to an ambiguous definition of a man-amongst-men. Ranma's daughter didn't have to suffer the conflicting ties of honour of god-knows how many engagements, suitors and rivals for their affections. Ranma's daughter would be free... free to pursue excellence in the art without distractions, free to become whatever she wanted to be, to travel without being tied to a dojo and the commitments such ties brought. Just her and her new friend against the world... and whatever duty she had agreed to when she became Phoenix's host of course...

Now... some might see such thoughts as callous. What about those who loved her? (they might ask) Didn't she feel any sense of loss for her previous life of excitement? What about hergrieving parents, the broken hearts of her fiancees and the end of her life as she knew it? What about being condemned to an existence rebuilding her life from the grass-roots up? What about how difficult it would be to establish an identity in a world were by all rights she shouldn't even exist?

In response to this opinion it should be understood that Ranma's life, for the last 3 months or so, had been, for want of a better analogy: a living hell. Her decision to remove the embryonic 'Saffron' from the clutches of his people had had unpleasant consequences for both her personal and public life courtesy of the attention paid her by the wrecking crew of Nerima... It was why she had left for her mother's house in the first place and, while she had planned it as a permanent arrangement, if she was being honest she would have been lucky to catch maybe a week of peace before all the craziness swallowed her again and dragged her back, back to that murderous limbo of madness that had been her life.

The trip back to Nerima had been rather uneventful, even they her friends and foes alike had been so awed by her defeat of the young demi-god that they had left her pretty much to herself and her new charge had occupied most of her time...

(XXX)

When Phoenix managed to control herself again and reigned in her mirth she was not surprised to see the wide smile gracing the face of her host. Their shared bond had forewarned her of the inner reminiscing and resolution of the conflict Ranma had felt since her rebirth. She was not surprised that her words had driven the young redhead's thoughts in the direction they had gone. If anyone deserved a fresh start it was the neo-girl before her and in order to function as an effective host and embrace her new powers and position Phoenix could not afford for Ranma to be wracked by doubts and guilt. The reincarnated soul needed closure, needed to come to terms with who she was now and everything Phoenix had done since she and her host had bonded had been calculated to provide the entity with the opportunity do just that. She couldn't even afford to feel guilty at the level of her manipulations. She could feel them out there, a cancerous blight, soiling the sanctity of her realm and she needed... they needed to be ready. She needed to keep her host safe and nurture her growth. Needed to return to Ranma her birthright, the gift that would make their union one of the most powerful in the history of creation and would at the same time give her, Pheonix, back that what she had once lost so many years ago. There was just so much to do and so little time...

"So...", Phoenix said with a smile on her face as she winked happily, "I think that now we have mangaged to solve at least a few problems with the tedious issues surrounding reincarnation and spirit bonding... I suppose you are eager for me to know exactly what I am, who I am and what that means for you as my host.?

The speed with with she received reply almost had her in giggles again. Her young host was just so cute! Almost as cute as... her beloved had been...once upon a time.

She blinked away the pain of her memories and locked them tightly away before they could influence her new host. Their bond was a two way thing after all and it wouldn't do to undo all her good work so soon.

"The first thing you have to understand about me and my kind Ranma is that we do hail from any planet, rather we are born in the heart of fire, in the cradle of life. We come into being with the beginning of all things in a solar system, the birth of a star...

AN: Ok expect two chapters to come... one 5000 words approx will be Ranma's life after Jusendo. The second will be the story of the Phoenix.


End file.
